#stop Starscream abuse

[sprung-from-the-grave]

Look at my poorly drawn lil guy, he’s doing his best

(Im not an editor 😭)

[number1-starscreamfan]

I'm going to kidnap Starscream and give him the love he deserves!!! He doesn't deserve to be an abuse victim 🤬🤬

[lord-starscream]

I was showing my friend some things I’ve asked other blogs then some of my shitposts and he said I should be banned 😭😭😭

[blackkat15]

Covering Starscream with stickers and calling him a good boy

[they-hermes]

heres a real controversial tf opinion: i think earthspark and idw/taao making starscream and megatrons relationship into a abuser and his victim is stupid and completely ignores starscreams entire character and his actual relationship to megatron

also starscream does not "deserve" a redemption arc in any future transformers media. on a meta level, there is no obligation for starscream to become a better person because he is infact, not a good person, and megatron having two (2) redemption arcs in 2 series doesn't make starscream deserving of one either

[primus-why]

This gave me similar vibes to:

Bonus: glowy "cracks" forming on someone's face.... hmmmmmmmmm

[anaghostiez]

Protect him at all costs

Megatron better watch himself frfr

[cosmics-beings]

being a starscream fan is always difficult because you have to navigate interacting with people who completely pacify him and excuse all his actions and paint him as a innocent person who can't be held accountable for the shit he does. and going as far as saying you excuse abuse if you try to hold him accountable for how he treats others. nevermind the fact that u yourself are an abuse victim and you wanna look at him multifaceted and you know, not excuse his abusive actions toward others.

but at the same time, you also have to navigate people who absolutely HATE him, and will act like they don't and claim they just see him critically, when most of their content is bashing him for his abuse, excusing it, saying he's an awful person and getting mad at people for seeing him as a victim or wanting him to have better. literally saying he deserves what happens to him. ike a lot of people will flat out slander him, while uplifting characters who are worse than him, will say that starscream doesn't deserve redemption, or saying that anyone who wants better for him is excusing him or worse, going out of their way just to be extremely unfair and critical to him.

it's difficult because i love starscream and i do see him critically. but it's hard being around people who will just pacify his actions, and then try to go to someone so you can have indepth convos about him only to realize that 'oh, this person actually hates starscream, they haven't said anything remotely positive about him'.

[transingthoseformers]

Full disclaimer: No this is not ship hate. I used to ship this when I was much younger when TFP was still airing! So not ship hate, just stating my own exp!

I had the opposite thing happen to me with StarOp and say Megastar! When I was younger, I was a big fan MegaStar. I am not sure why I shipped it? I think something in my brain just registered them as a couple? I am blaming the scene in space where Starscream leans down, places his hand tenderly on Megatron's chest and whispers Master in his..where his ear should be lol. It was the fanon/fandom that ended up making me very wary of the ship to the point of being uncomfortable with it. The main example that comes to mind is this fanmade manga on DeviantArt, where it felt it was romanticizing the abuse Starscream went through? Honestly it felt like so much in the early TFP fandom romanticized the hell that Starscream went through under Megs that is just turned me off completely from the ship. While for StarOP I had better experiences with it, and it at least with the media I have consume of it, most of it portrays Starscream as more cunning and snarky and Optimus enjoying this side of him. Sometimes yes it does tackle Starscream's trauma/abuse, but at least with the fics I have read it's handled well and sometimes not even the vocal point of the fic. Although maybe I'm just spoiled in the fact I got into the ship WAAAAY later thanks to Stop Me.

That all said, I still do kind of like the idea of Megastar, more so in a platonic case than romantic. Something about them being tragic friends with tension is funny to me.

Anyway! Feel free to ignore or delete, up to you, just wanted to share this ramble since it actually caught me off guard someone had a similar experience to me with a ship in the TFP fandom ghjhjk.

And that's all fair! We all have our experiences and preferences, and we evolve as people as we grow up

[lets-try-some-writing]

Sparklings chirp. Birds chirp. Humans occasionaly too the mimics that they are. Cue bots and cons making fools of themselves

Cybertronians are known for their intelligence as a general rule. A technological species built for increadible adaptation and industry is not exactly the most likely to be fooled. However, there are a few things which are the most likely to trip them up across the board. The sound of a sparkling happens to be one of those things.

A sparkling has a unique signature sound that they develop a few cycles after their emergence. But a fresh sparkling does not have this signature song and instead spits out something akin to a chirp. It is simply meant to make noise as a sparkling tests their voice and develops their call. However this has in turn led to a few false alarms amongst Autobots and Decepticons.

Logically they all know that there cannot be sparklings on Earth. It is an impossibility. It is even more of an impossibility for a sparkling young enough to make a basic cry to be anywhere near and organic world. And yet, instincts are strong in those who have not seen a sparkling since the height of the war.

Arcee has tripped up more than a few times due to birds with calls just high enough to sound eerily similar to a smaller framed sparkling crying out for attention. She has, while tired, followed a few of these birds for several minutes before realizing her folly and turning back. No one will ever know, at least, that is what she tells herself. Soundwave knows everything.

Starscream doesn't like sparklings all that much as a general rule, or rather, he doesn't like the idea of any being around him during a war. He adores them in any other situation. Thus it was not hard for him to almost go nose diving toward the ground when a flock of birds got a little too close and had him frantically scanning the area in search of a fictitious sparkling before he figured out that it was just the organic fauna fragging with him.

Knockout had done more than a few hopeful rounds after hearing something small making a whistling almost chirp like sound while on patrol. He is fully aware that a sparkling being on Earth is impossible, but that hasn't stopped him from tailing such sounds only to end up very much disappointed when he finds a human messing around or some sort of bird chirping away. He wants to hope, and one can never be too careful. This has led to issues when Rafael made a squeak that bordered on a chirp during battle. Knockout almost dropped what he was doing to grab the boy on instinct before a punch brought him to his senses.

The bots at base have been led to panic on more than a few occasions when the children or even Agent Fowler whistled a little too high to be registered as normal. There has been scrambling and instinctual urges to coddle in response to the sounds. Surprisingly, Jack of all people has weaponized this to get Arcee's attention when he really wants it. He does not abuse this more than necessary. Rafael tends to accidently get Bumblebee to pick him up when he makes any sound a little too high pitched for comfort. Miko can't seem to get the whistle right, but Bulkhead has internally registered her attempts as her unique call and so he will respond anyway.

[janesinner]

SG! Sentinel Prime x High Guard! Female! Reader

Part ONE HERE

WARNINGS:

Major character death, abuse, manipulation

Slightly Starscream x Reader

Enjoy

Y/N POV :

I still remember the golden ages of Cybertron. Morning rises and fall of our sun, that would always warm my cold platings. Our moons dancing around our planet, our creator. Primus.

Primus sacrificed himself to create Primes and us. High Guard. We swore to protect Cybertron and the Primes. Each and one of the Primes had extradenaly spark spark that is so strong that even after they dry out of energon, their body would still function for centuries.

Primes were amazing, but my closes friend. Chief advisors of the Primes.

I still remember the first day I met him. It was before the attack of the Quintessons, when I walked through the hallnof the Prime tower, when I heard a rich like laugh. I got attracted to the sound and decided to follow it. In one of the room, I saw the Primes laughing and among them was a bluish unfamiliar mech. I entered the room and that's when he turned towards me. I could see his golden wings twitch slightly as his blue optics met with mine. He turned his whole body towards me and his mouth was wide open. Megatronus Prime had to nudge him on his shoulder o wake him up. I chuckled. It was trully a funny sight.

"Y/N! My love, where are you?" Starscream called out of the corner. When he came in to the view, he gently placed her servos around my shoulders, nodded to the Primes in respect as he dragged me out of there.

As Primus wanted it, I met him the next week I was in the garden, admiring our metalic word, when I heard someone land behind me. I gently gasped and placed my servo over my chest when I saw who it was. "Quite jumpy? Mhm?" Sentinel chuckled as he walked around the bench and infront of me and extended his blue shining servo towards me. "My name is Sentinel. I am a Chief Advisor of the Primes. But you can just adress me as Sentinel." His smile was generous and loving. I slughtly smiled, he was really friendly and accepted his servo and shook it. "Captain Y/N of the high Guard. But... i suppose you could call me Y/N when it's just as." "Oh? Liking to keep your authority around the others, mhm?" He chuckled. Just now I realised he was still holding my hand. I coughed slughtly, to give him a himt. He realised it and released my hand and laughed. "You're allowing everyone to call you by your first name everywhere?" I asked and raised an eyebrow at him. He only chuckled and sat next to me. "Not to everyone, only to those that catch my interest." He gave me a wink. I rolled my optics and chuckled. "Did I? Do tell me, what do you know about me?" I saw him froze for a second, and then too gave a soft chuckle as ne pushed himself closer to me.

Third POV :

Sentinel froze at her question. If only he could tell her everything, that since the day he met her, he couldn't stop thinking about her. That once she left, he began asking the Primes about you and searched everything about you too. He couldn't stop thinking about you. Your beautiful features, your optics, how beautiful his blue plating would mix with yours. It made his spark beat with both excitement and something else.

He shook his head and leaned his wings against the rest of the bench. "Well, for example, you're a Captain. I heard only the best about you and that you can place a Prime to their place." His spark flattered when you chuckled and covered your mouth with you servo. 'NO NO! WHY ARE YOU COVERING YOUR SMILE??!!'

"You have an angelic Laugh, my dear!" Your optics met with his, as you only chuckled and shook your head. "Well, I'm flattered that you heard so mcuh about me, Sentinel. I too heard many great things about you." He felt like his spark would explore any second now. He felt like a scraplet who just needed more and more of the juicy metal to satisfy his hunger. He held his fingers crossed. This is the moment, this is the moment when he'll- "But unfortunately, I'm already seeing someone else, but we still can be friends."

He felt like the ground just opened beneath him. His spark that hides behind his t-cog just shattered in to milion pieces. If he didn't mastered his face expressions, he would be crying now. 'How could... how could.'

"Sentinel? Are you okay?" 'Okay? Okay?! Ofcourse I'm not okay?!' "Ah sorry! It's just- I should had expected someone like you would already have a Conjux Endura." He gave a nervous laugh, while his wings were twitching in anger. He felt like giving up on his life, and yet, there was still a little part of him. A little part that was gaining more and more strength. He almost began to see red.

"Oh no! You got it all wrong!" 'Wait, does she mean-' "We're not Conjux." 'Primus! My prays have been heard! I still have a chance.' Sentinel was relieved after you said that, which now means he needs to put his newly made up plan in the process now. "But do tell me, who's that lucky mech? Mhm?" He asked and smirked from audio to audio. You only crossed your servos over your shoulder and chuckled lightly. "Well, he's big, wise and quite powerful." While you chuckled and took it more as a joke, Sentinel wrote it in to his mental note.

"I like Mech that are not hesitant to be risky and are not scared to fight back, if you know what I mean." "My my, you like quite the warriors, mhm?" Sentinel's spark was beating again. Powerful mechs are her type. 'Only mech who posses such powers are Primes... does she... like a Prime?!' Sentinel began to panic again. Was your type Megatronus Prime? If yes, this would be the end of him. He would never impress you as a mere chief, and neither he could ever withstand a Prime. Everything he was planning was slowly falling apart.

"But those are only a foolish dreams only few fembots could only reach. But, I am just happy me and Starscream are very close."

'Starscream...'

Sentinel had to cover his mouth. He was fighting against hiw own laughter. Starscream? STARSCREAM?! This is too easy! If you're attracted to a fool like him, it will be very easy for him to make an accident. Sentinel smiled to himself.

For the rest of the day, you two talked and become rather close. Since Sentinel knew almost everything about you it was pretty easy for him to catch your interest. He was very manipulative, using gossip to his own advantage. The worst part was, it was working.

At the end of they day, Starscream called you. You answered the call and excused yourself as you left back to your suite. Even tho Sentinel hope to spend more time with you, he was glad he at least managed to introduce himself to you and slightly manipulate you.

His obsession become only worst once the Quintessons attacked. He got worried that they'll kill you, but he also seek it as an opportunity. "I like big mech with Power." Those words, even tho they were made up in his mind, still rang in his processor. If he'll made a deal with the Quintessons, not only he'll get rid of the Primes, but he'll also gain power. That power you like. And then, you'll forget about Sentinel and chose him. Sentinel couldn't be happier. Everything was going according his plan. Or as he thought...

Present time:

Finally, after 50 cycles, you'll be his. He exposed his spark to you, expecting you to do the same. After all these years, he become a real Prime. He gained power, got rid of the Prime, he made wise decisions selling cybertron to Quintessons for him to live as a King. All those years he lived alone, but soon, soon you'll finally be his.

He stared in to yours teary F/C optics. Was it out of realization? Did you finally realised what you wanted? That he is the mech you always wanted? That you love him? That you feel the same way as he does?

He could hear Starscream whine behind him. As he struggled to stand up. "Y/N, don't do this." I growled and turned towards him.

"Starscream, you should be quiet here, since it is your life on the line." Sentinel smirked audio to audio as he stood in front of Starscream, with his spark still exposed. Starscream glanced at his spark and growled. "She is not yours to take!" Sentinel only chuckled. "She doesn't deserve you. She deserve Mech with power. She deserve, me."

Sentinel grabbed him by his shoulders and lifted him up in the air. You shouted at him to let him go, but Sentinel only tirned his head towards you with cold gaze. "Then chose! You once told me you like mech with power and authority! I have it all! Starscream does none! Make the right choice." You were at the edge of crying as you avoided the optic contact. You didn't wanted Sentinel, but you also didn't wanted to lose Starscream.

With a shaking breath, you looked at Starscream, he was badly damaged by d-16 and now even more by Sentinel. He always treated you from the rest the best. He promised that after the'll win, he would propose to you and be your conjux endura but now. You know him too well, he would rather die then to see you with Sentinel. Not once he told you that. It was thanks to him you managed to escape from him that day. If you'll submit to him, that would mean Starscreams sacrifice would be for nothing.

"I chose Starscream..."

The whole room went silent. No one said a single word, as everyone stared intensely at you, Sentinel and Starscream. Starscreams expression was relieved. He was glad you chose him over Sentinel, he knows what awaits him, but he would rather die then to watch the love of his life submitting to the traitor of Cybertron. He smiled at you. Sentinel stared intensely at you, not blinking, not moving. Anything. He just closed his chamber and took a deep breath. "Alright then..."

And with that, he pierced his servo through Starscream chest. You screamed in horror as you watched Sentinels servo sticking throughs Starscreams back, with his t-cog in his grip. He then pulled han servo back, and Starscream fell to the ground. You tried to get on your knees and rush to him, which you managed, tho its was sloppy. Your servos were still cuffed behind your back.

You kneeles infront of him, as your hot tears landed on his faceplate. Starscream gave you one reassuring smile, his own tears leaking down. "You made the right Choice, my love. Never, disapoint your dignity. I love you."

Those were his last word, before he went offline and his colorful plating turned grey. Hot tears rushed down your cheeks as you placed your fore head against his, sobbing and crying. "See Y/N? This is a consequence of your action, this could have been avoided if you once in your life stopped being selfish!"

He walked up to you, bit didn't touch you. He just stared down at you. He no longer felt anything towards you. He's finally free from his obsession towards you. "Y/N don't look at, look at me." You ignored him, as you still cried you spark out. "Y/N??!! Look! At! ME!"

You gasped as he screamed your name and turned towards him, that's when you saw him recharge his hand cannon.

"It's really a shame."

"We could have been beautiful."

Is butterfly effect real?

Maybe in another word, Y/N would accept his offer, maybe she would had different ending.

Do you wish to change your choice?

[lockheed-martin-unofficial]

After @randomationality mentioned Starscream getting thrown around often here, I remembered him being shiny for the first few episodes and decided to do some digging and figure out exactly when he lost the shine.

In Episode 1, while Megatron is still gone, Starscream’s chest has a very prominent shine.

Then again, Episode 2, Megatron returns and he is very shiny.

In Episode 3 he’s not as shiny as earlier (possibly due to the lighting, possibly due to offscreen Megatron) but we do see the glow of his weapon reflecting on his chest.

Same for Ep4, continuation of the Fowler scene. But at the end of Episode 4, Megatron beats Starscream on camera for the first time. And when you watch Episode 5,,,

You can clearly see he’s lost the shine. The same lighting is hitting both of them and while it reflects from Megatron, it doesn’t from Starscream.

Worth noting that Ep 6 does give him back a bit of shine, he never quite recovers to the same degree as the first few episodes. I stopped watching carefully after that point. Make of this what you will. The animators tweaking his design after the first few episodes, or an intentional change to show Megs’ abuse.

[transformers-spike]

Please author, TFP Megatron x human Reader but they (if you can, AFAB) are into being bitten. Throw in some knife play in it?? Maybe?? I mean his teeth do qualify as knife play I think??? Also Megatron spoils them with aftercare because he is the evil tyrant but with a special spot for his favorite human

I'm kinda showing the aftermath of Megatron's biting featuring poor Knock Out. I hope you got your tetanus shot

“Hold still,” Knock Out tells you while disinfecting a particularly bad gash. He’s been at it for a while now, switching his attention to and from the monitor displaying a wide variety of human skin lesions and wikihow articles on how to treat them properly. You’ve been sitting on the medical table for a while now, feet dangling off the ledge like a child ignoring the safety protocols of the Grand Canyon. If his helm wasn’t on the line, you’re sure he would have gladly slapped you right off the edge himself. Instead, he watches over you with the determination of someone unwilling but forced to keep a cockroach alive no matter how often it crawls under their shoe. You’ve been to the medical bay enough times to cause Knock Out at least one mental breakdown while the actual Breakdown watched, bewildered, as the Chief Medical Officer tried to make sense of human anatomy despite the tangible disgust he harbors for your organic biology. Eh, you’re probably stretching it – he wouldn’t have silently threatened to squeeze your organs out of your body if he was that disgusted. Although, you must admit, you love when he fusses over you like a mother hen keeping its suicidal chick from repeatedly drowning itself. Megatron’s handiwork has been especially brutal, not that you mind. Even in his mass-displaced form his strength is unparalleled, it makes you wonder just how much he holds back, how easily he could tear out your jugular with his dentae alone. He is a massive predator, after all, by human and Cybertronian standards. The decision he made to file down his dentae into pointed tips must have skyrocketed his success rate in the pits through sheer intimidation factor. Maybe Cybertronians aren’t exactly known for having evolved a “bite when you’re cornered” reflex like Earth fauna, but you’re pretty damn sure Megatron can bite a chunk out of someone’s chassis if he’s angry enough. You try not to imagine Starscream with enough holes to qualify as a new type of vegan swiss cheese. Knock Out hasn’t said it to your face, but he’s alluded to sedating you in the medical bay if only to put a stop to your inane talent for sticking limbs you shouldn’t into Megatron’s intake. Alas, you do not give a fuck, and if he has the wrecking balls for it, he’ll have to answer to his leader for his transgressions (and promptly get his interface panel smashed in before he can so much as activate his vocalizer). Checkmate, glitch. 

From the furrow of his optical ridge you can tell he’s actively purging any incentive to glance down at your tits and comment on the sheer damage caused to them. This, you’ve grown acquainted with. Call them bazonkers all you want, but these bad girls can only take so much abuse before you start crying. You’ve cursed breast tissue enough times to solidify your distaste for their uselessness outside of child rearing (disregarding sex). It takes a slight graze of Megatron’s dentae against them and you’re already trying to escape your mortal coil from the pain alone. Yes, said pain has made you orgasm. No, you refuse to take a good hard look at yourself and reevaluate what in God’s name is wrong with you.

Megatron by all means isn’t the soothing type. But after having experienced his specific brand of “gentle” brutality he’s grown to watch over your rapidly rising and falling form as you gingerly touch the gashes on your skin. Cybertronians, you’ve learned, can emit a purr similar to an engine (courtesy of Knock Out). Megatron however, having no Earth-based alt-mode, can only produce the dull rumble of Cybertronian aircraft – and that you learned when he scooped you up like a newborn deer and placed you on his chassis for safe-keeping. His servo, claws sharpened to perfection (for the pits, logically), switching between stroking your empty little head trying to make sense of your surroundings and caging your bleeding body under its grip.

Knock Out wacks you over the head with the back of his digit.

“Ow what the fuck?” You snarl.

“Stop daydreaming and show me the inside of your thighs,” he says with the complete lack of amusement of a convenience store clerk asking a customer to stop pushing a pull-door.

“Oh. My bad,” you hiss none-too-apologetically, nonchalantly spreading your legs and letting him figure out the horrorshow any sane human would have fainted experiencing. Except you. Because you have the spite of a cockroach. A flying cockroach aiming for Knock Out’s optic at the speed of light.

In the silence that follows, you can hear his processor drafting his resignation letter.

[scribe-of-hael]

I think what sucks most about Earthspark is the potential of hitting topics that honestly I feel kids now adays should be able to learn about.

Like what happened with hastag and Starscream's history. Somtimes bad ppl hurt us, it hurts when we aren't believed. It hurts us when we are haunted by them. It is ok to talk about them and even not feel safe around the person that might have hurt us.

Starscream is bewildered that a child of all beings BELIEVES him and wnates to hear him out. He is clearly conflicted and he know she other kids have a bias because of the comics they read and what they know.

Despite being told who he was, he deliberately saved Hashtag when he was the one MOST at risk. The dwellers wasn't going to hurt her, it was gonna eat him. But he risked his life anyway. In that moment, he proved he is not as selfish as they come like Thrash said.

Starscream instead of fighting or even willingly going with Megatron said "no. You hurt me. I do not feel safe with you around me" and fucked off. No fight, no snark. Even wishing Hashtag well.

I legit wanna throw hands with whoever decided to take this moment , and THROW IT IN TRASH. By making it seem it was all a trick, and he never meant it hurts so fucking much.

And yes, I do understand that sometimes people who have been abused become abusers themselves. It happens! But you have NO fucking set up from a writers perspective to pull this shit. And doing it exposition of -

"Starscream does what he always does"

Is the laziest cop out writing i have seen since supernatural s12 is is fucking awful. There is no other word for it. It is striaght up awful writing.

It would have been better if you SHOWED how and why Starscream ends up this way but you DON'T. There for its not earned or even fucking explained other than. Its shoehorned in.

"It's what a Starscream would" STOP. Stop , just stop trying to constantly make the same character in every universe. Or at the very least explain WHY or fucking how!

One reason why I dread watching Armada is knowing that in Energon and Cybertron they just completely reset his character. This WHOLE ARC OF GROWTH, back to what a "classic" Starscream would be.

I do not know why Starscream is unable to be given a better arc than any other character or villain. Esspcially when Megatron is allowed to be better in ES just because and Starscream isn't.

There was so much set up for good lessons and story telling. They just completely trashed it for something less than digestible.

[muletia]

𝐛𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚

[tfp] obsessed!starscream x human!reader

+18 content / valveplug

summary: still feeling megatron's claws all over his body, starscream goes to visit the only person who can let him forget the horrors of abuse - you

cw: hurt/comfort, angst, megatron abuses starscream, slight gore, established (but it's complicated) relationship, very ooc starscream, get catified idiot; yandere themes: obsessive thoughts, possessiveness and jealousy, emotional manipulation, clinginess and unhealthy behavior; valveplug with plot: gentle!dom!top!reader, sub!bottom!starscream, backshots (starscream receiving), reader uses a strap (referred as cock a few times), overstimulation, praise kink

word count: 5450

inspired by this ask, bless you for it anon 🙏 :

He isn’t sure what provoked the attack. Did he speak too soon? Stepped into Megatron's personal space? Maybe the warlord noticed his mind wandering for a few nanokliks, wishing the speech would end so he could return to you. Or maybe he didn’t need a reason. Perhaps no provocation was ever necessary for Megatron to lash out. To hit, crush, scratch, humiliate him in front of everyone. Sometimes, all it took was a bad mood and a single glance to spill energon. Often, Megatron didn’t need a reason at all to vent his fury. A whim was enough — a need to display aggression, to assert forced, undeserved dominance.

Starscream doesn’t want to think about it anymore. He’s suffered enough physically. Instead, he focuses on you, channeling the gentleness you always showed him, the calculated grace of your movements. You always knew how to make him forget, even if only for a fleeting moment.

Bruised and aching, he impatiently awaits the meeting’s end. He tries to remain inconspicuous, to seem smaller than he is, hoping to avoid further humiliation, because clawing out optics of every bot present is not an option. He longs to return to you immediately, but for now, he must pretend to be the model soldier, still invested in the cause. He wonders if anyone truly cares anymore, if anyone other than Megatron still remembers the original ideals of the Decepticons and adheres to them. Does even the warlord himself believe in what he’s fighting for? He quickly abandons the thought, redirecting his focus back to you.

When the meeting finally concludes, he forces himself to walk out with composed, deliberate steps, hiding the urgency in his pedes, the way they ache to carry him out of this hell. The icy chill of the ship bites at his spark, but he waits patiently for Megatron’s dismissal, mocking the absurdity of the situation in his mind. Once granted permission, he exits the bridge alongside Knockout, who naturally heads toward the medbay, assuming Starscream will follow, but is visibly surprised when seeker doesn’t join him, instead limping stubbornly away.

"Hey, Starscream, get your aft to the medbay!" Knockout calls out.

"I don’t need your help, Knockout," Starscream replies venomously.

"Oh, really? Whose help do you need, then?" Knockout retorts, voice dripping with sarcasm. "To the medbay, before I lose my patience."

"I’m not going anywhere with you," Starscream growls. "So drop it. As long as I’m still standing, I’m fine."

"You’ve got seven lacerations, three puncture wounds, and two gunshot injuries.” he starts counting on his digits “Not to mention countless scratches. I don’t know what kind of world you live in where this counts as 'fine.'" Knockout steps closer, grabbing the stubborn seeker’s arm. "Stop resisting and let me fix you, you idiot."

Knockout’s touch feels cold, piercing like a thousand needles against mesh, gripping tightly as if intending to crush his arm, though Starscream knows it’s just an illusion. He doesn’t want such an unpleasant connection, doesn’t want to be associated with metal and its rigidity right now nor with surgical tools or Knockout’s detached approach to patching wounds.

He doesn’t want to be on the Nemesis, feeling useless, insignificant, and discarded. He wants to be with you, to feel your touch, hear your voice. Now.

He can’t endure it any longer.

"Let go!" he snarls, yanking his arm free with a dramatic sweep, immediately stepping back, closer to you. "I said I don’t want your help, didn’t I?! So leave me alone and go buff that hollow helm of yours!"

Before Knockout can fire back with a sharp retort, Starscream transforms and takes off, leaving behind nothing but a cyan puddle and a trail of exhaust fumes and energon.

"Everyone on this ship has lost their minds," the medic mutters.

It doesn’t take Starscream long to orient himself, to calculate the route to reach you. He immediately sets off toward the coordinates, forcing himself to ignore the searing pain that courses through his frame, the open, leaking wounds that drip energon he knows will eventually hit the ground. It’s reckless to draw attention, but he casts caution aside, overwhelmed by the desperate need for comfort.

From a distance, he spots you lounging in a hammock, absorbed in a book, soaking up the warm rays of the spring sun. Will you be upset if he interrupts you? When he imposes his selfish needs, bringing with him vivid evidence of the horror he endured, likely ruining your peace and cheerful mood. He knows you won’t turn him away or be angry about his unannounced visit, but he can’t shake the feeling that his presence is always unwelcome. Everywhere.

No matter how you react, no matter what you say, he won’t leave. He needs to feel your soft hands on him, convinced they’ll erase the sensation of Megatron’s fists against his plating, help him forget the claws tearing through metal, the smashing against walls, and the weight pressing his pedes to the floor. You’ll envelop not just his processor but his body as well, wrapping him in an illusion of carefreeness and convincing him, with your unparalleled talent, that everything is alright.

He sees you tilt your head from the hammock, scanning the sky for his silhouette, a smile gracing your lips when you finally spot him. You wave cheerfully, setting the book aside into the hammock’s folds. But your joy quickly fades as his alt-mode hurtles straight toward you. Before you can escape or let out a shout, Starscream transforms mid-air, landing above the hammock with you caught beneath him.

He looks down at you, and a wave of relief washes over him. He made it. Finally, he’s safe.

“Boo,” he teases.

The journey cost him more energy than he’d anticipated. To prevent collapsing, he braces himself against the massive tree in front of him. Only now does he truly feel how drained he is, how much his injuries ache. But none of it matters — he’s here with you, and for the first time in hours, the pain dulls and the cold from the Nemesis dissipates.

"Holy shit, Starscream!" you exclaim beneath him. "You almost gave me a heart attack! Never do that shit again, understand?!"

"Good to see you too," he retorts with a scoff. His legs tremble and wings sag unnaturally low, yet somehow, he feels infinitely better than he did on the Nemesis. There’s warmth here, a sense of solace.

He watches as your expression shifts — you grow pale, scanning his frame with those beautiful, observant little eyes. Fear crosses your face as you immediately climb out of the hammock. A few droplets of energon hit the ground near your feet.

You don’t ask who did this or why. You know him well enough to understand why he sometimes arrives with injuries, armed with a plethora of grievances to share. But he’s never appeared to you so broken before.

"My God, Starscream, why didn’t you let someone patch you up?"

He rolls his optics. You don’t need to know about the desperation that drove him here, his overwhelming need to reach you as quickly as possible. "Because I had more important matters on my mind," he dodges. "Now, hand over some energon."

Skeptically, you drop the topic and open the shed where you keep a few barrels of refined energon, stored specifically for emergencies like this.

"Here you go, though I doubt this will solve all of our problems."

His wings twitch upward at the word "our."

"As if I don’t have everything under control," he huffs, limping toward a barrel and drinking it greedily, yet somehow maintaining an air of grace.

"You always do," you reply sarcastically, fully aware of how often he misses the subtlety of your playful tone. The faint smile hidden behind the half-full barrel confirms your suspicion. After finishing the first, he reaches for another.

"Feeling better?" you ask gently.

He takes your care to spark, letting it flood through his frame.

"Slightly," he admits because the word incomparably got stuck in his intake.

He tosses the empty energon container aside without care, locking his optics onto you as you continue to scan his injuries.

"I’ll grab a towel," you announce, turning toward the house.

Ha, you’re going to leave him? Now, when he needs you most? No, you don’t have the right. You can’t hurt him like that.

"You’re not going anywhere."

Before you can even touch the doorknob, you feel long, slender claws wrap around your forearm. They pull you back with a soft "eep" escaping your lips until you land against his chassis, your shirt now smeared with energon.

"Seriously? Do you know how hard it is to get energon stains out?"

"You’ll manage," he replies, his servos already playing with your hair. His wings tremble slightly, betraying the emotions he struggles to suppress. "I’ve never seen blue stains on that pathetic, soft armor of yours."

"Clothes," you correct him.

"Unimportant."

Holding you in his arms, he truly feels that everything is alright. The open wounds don’t sting as fiercely as they did moments ago, his battered body can rest, and his processor is enveloped by a rare sense of peace. Everything feels better when you’re near, when your unimaginable softness surrounds him, and your tiny hands stroke his chassis, careful to avoid every wound. It’s soothing, and comforting, to have someone who brings solace just to him. To belong to someone, as much as he belongs to you. Almost cozy.

But soon, merely holding you isn’t enough. It’s unsatisfying, incomplete. Always craving luxuries, he wants more, and he wants it now.

He leans in, kissing your neck greedily while his servo slips beneath your shirt, making his desires abundantly clear.

"Starscream," you chide, "there’s a puddle of energon under you."

"Good thing I don’t care," he mutters between kisses, with no intention of stopping.

“And will you start caring when I say I won’t let you into bed in this state?”

"Stop ruining the mood," he hisses. "I don’t need your berth to interface!"

"But I do," you reply calmly, unfazed by his accusatory tone. To emphasize your point, you cross your arms over your chest, creating a small but significant distance between you. Starscream loathes this gesture, hates the boundary it creates between you. He wants to erase it, destroy it because whether you realize it or not, you hurt him with your cruelty. You set a boundary he never wanted to feel between you again.

"Star, you know I only want what’s best for you, right?"

"And that’s why you want to leave me, huh? Fine, go ahead, leave and never come back if you can’t be bothered to pay attention to me!" He releases you, and this time it's him crossing his arms over his chassis, but defensively, for comfort. Without you near, an unbearable, chilling loneliness takes hold of him and he despises it. “You have the incredible opportunity to interface with me, and you’re turning me down because of a little energon stain? Foolish human, if only you understood what honor I bestow on you by allowing you to even touch me.”

"It’ll only take me a minute," you reassure him, cupping his mauled faceplate in your hand. Starscream tries to resist the trap, to demonstrate the seriousness of his words through his body language, but within a nanoklik, he knows you have caught him. He leans into your hand, now smeared with energon, savoring the scraps of attention you offer. His wings flutter joyfully, and his engines hum softly, imitating a purr, a telltale sign of his true feelings, unspoken and originating from his very spark. “You’re a good mech. You’ll wait for me, won’t you?”

He stomps his pede and taps his claws against his arm, wrestling with his thoughts. A single compliment, and he’s already willing to do anything you ask, just to earn another, as if enchanted.

"You have exactly one klik. And you’d better hurry because I’ll be counting."

You disappear into the house, and he battles the urge to follow, to accompany you everywhere in pursuit of the phenomenon that is your touch and its incredible power to immerse him in pleasure. What a cruel joke, he thinks, as a few nanokliks pass and the pain creeps back. His wings droop and his frame begins to tremble, betraying the weakness and torment he carries within. He doesn’t want to be alone — can’t bear the lack of you any longer, though not even a single klik has passed. Feeling as if the cold has intensified, mocking him just like it did back on the Nemesis, he hugs himself tighter.

"[Name]?" he calls out weakly, his voice lonely, pathetic, like an addict in withdrawal.

He steps forward but collapses mid-motion, his journey ending there.

"I’m here! And what, I made it in time, didn’t I?" you ask playfully, though your tone quickly shifts to concern when you see the trembling seeker. "Hey, it’s okay. I’m not leaving you again," you assure warmly. "I’m not going anywhere."

"Have you finally realized what an honor it is to be in my presence?" His self-admiration returns, a defensive mechanism to shield his vulnerable, true self. With the last bits of his strength, he suppresses his shaking as you guide him to sit on the ground, which he complies with. You shift slightly to the side to avoid the sharp edges of his armor on his knees.

"Star, it’s been an honor from the very beginning," you assure him, gently dabbing at his wounds with a towel. You press it against his chassis, ignoring his winces and hisses, soothing him instead with soft strokes along his cheek.

"So, you do have some sense after all. For a human, that is."

"Thanks, I try," you reply, moving to the largest wound and tending to it with a fresh towel. "But I’m afraid you’ll still need to see a medic, erm, what was his name again… Knockout?"

Oh, he dislikes how easily you utter another’s name, inviting its owner into his sanctuary. Jealousy claws at his spark, fuelling anger, because you should know and adore only his name. No one else is necessary for your happiness.

He regrets ever telling you the medic’s name.

A sudden urge to merge his glossa with your tongue overwhelms him. To erase the taste of the intruder. But he restrains himself when he sees the genuine concern etched on your face. Starscream doesn’t want to ruin this moment, this rare display of sincerity, though his jealousy remains. Instinctively, his wings raise higher, making him appear larger, desperate for your attention.

"Don’t say that idiot’s name," he growls. "From now on, I’m the only mech you’re allowed to address. Understand? No one else deserves it."

"Hm, good thing the only mech I interact with is you," you say. Starscream doesn’t bother hiding the smug smile spreading across his faceplate, his wings trembling with satisfaction… until you add "But I’m not kidding, you need medical help and best I can do is very basic care."

"Have you not realized yet that that’s all I need? Think, if I wanted to see a medic, I’d have gone to one instantly."

He dislikes the way you’re looking at him, as if you don’t believe him, even though he’s laid his cards bare for you. How can he explain that he sped toward you recklessly, risking everything, because he needed you, not Knockout, not specialized instruments, nor the familiar texture of an operating table beneath him? How can he make you understand that with just your touch, you’ve repaired him more effectively than the Decepticon medic could dream of? Would you ever truly grasp how much you mean to him, how much he’s willing to sacrifice for you? Probably not, he thinks bitterly. He’ll never be able to convey it through gestures, words, or even the most tender acts of affection.

"I just don’t want you to suffer," you confess sincerely.

His silence speaks volumes — it tells you that he can’t grant you this wish.

"Oh, Star," you sigh.

"What?" he hisses. "Do you think it’s that easy when you are being punished for merely existing?"

"I… I know. I’m sorry," you reply, your voice laced with such raw remorse that it’s as if you’d struck him. Once, he might have relished your guilt, your groveling for sins he never wanted to be atoned for but deserved. Yet now, he just wants to scrape that remorse off your face, to bury it deep and forever. He longs for your sincere, cheerful smile, the one that crinkles your eyelids, softens your features, and radiates enough warmth to thaw even his cold, egoistic spark.

But your expression brings back unwanted memories of today’s horrors. For a moment, his mind drifts back to the Nemesis bridge, to the echoes of his own screams reverberating against the walls, the thrashing, the scent of energon, and the tyrant treating his body like a toy. For a fleeting instant, he was convinced this time Megatron would truly break him, kill him, and he wouldn’t even get the chance to say goodbye to you.

He doesn’t want to remember — not here, not with you, especially when you need him. So he resorts to the one trick that helps him forget, hoping you’ll forgive him for it.

He buries his helm in the crook of your neck and begins kissing, silently pleading for interface, a counterbalance to the agony, because maybe if you frag him hard enough his mind will finally break, freeing him from Megatron’s torment.

"Am I clean enough for your bed now?" he asks between kisses. His servo slides under your shirt again, while the other finds your butt, massaging it without subtlety.

"Yes, you are now," you reply, your voice half-lost in a breathy sigh.

Starscream leans forward, almost pressing his entire weight against you, losing himself in you. If not for your gentle reminder, a hand on his chassis, he might have released his spike here and now, demanding mindless, wild fragging under the open sky.

"Bed, remember?"

"You and your impossible demands," he mutters but complies, fully submissive only to you. The change of location doesn’t stop him, though, he continues nibbling and caressing your delicate skin, undeterred even as you bend to pick up the soiled towels and rise to lead him inside.

"Say something nice to me," he demands, still clinging to you as you guide him toward the house.

"You’re relentless. Strong, because you keep pushing forward. W-warm…" Your voice breaks as his servo brushes against your chest. "And so beautiful. I couldn’t dream of a more stunning mech."

Vasking in the genuine praise, he moans into your neck and quickens the movements of his servo, now roaming all over your body — exploring, eager to take everything he possibly could for himself.

Your home is spacious enough for him to stand upright, his wings slightly lowered. Though such tight, enclosed spaces once felt like torture for the seeker, he’s come to appreciate your strange, human dwelling. Here, he feels safe, surrounded by the comforting presence of your scent. Because only here he can stop pretending to be someone and fully accept that he is yours.

Dropping the towels by the front door, you move toward a cabinet where you keep supplies for occasions like this, but having a leech clinging to your neck — one evidently unwilling to let go for even a second — makes it especially awkward.

"Star, wait," you plead. Turning your head to look at him, you find him too preoccupied with leaving love bites on your neck to notice your attempt to meet his gaze. He only hums softly to signal he’s listening. "How do you want to handle this?"

His answer comes without hesitation. "Make me forget."

You know exactly what he means. "As you wish, love."

You hastily remove your pants and underwear, reaching for the strap you’d prepared earlier.

"Go get ready," you instruct, nodding toward the bed. Aside from this brief, vague command, you leave the rest to him. He can decide in which position you’ll rearrange his insides.

"Starscream," you chide again as he continues to toy with your skin — both at your neck and your stomach, where one servo has come to rest.

He has no desire to stop touching you, to abandon the contact for even the short moments you need to prepare. Not when he so desperately needs you. Yet the tingling pleasure from his valve and the swollen spike tapping against the panel now dictate his actions. The directive is clear: make his processor think of nothing but you.

Reluctantly, with a trademark dose of dramatics, he detaches himself from your back, letting you do what you need. "Fine," he groans, making his way to your velvet berth. He rests his chassis and long, slender arms on it, sinking into the softness (though it still doesn’t compare to yours) and his interface panel retracts, exposing the toys you love to play with. Deliberately, he angles his aft toward you, ensuring you see how neglected he is, how much he needs you, tempting your self-control to deal with him immediately.

"How long are you going to make me wait?"

"Just a second," you soothe. He hears you fumbling with your endearing silicone toy, followed by the sound of your sharp intake of breath. Tilting his helm slightly, he glances back at you and grins triumphantly at the hungry, dreamy look on your face. The plan worked.

To entice you further, he gives his aft a calculated wiggle.

"You like teasing, don’t you?" you murmur, stepping closer and gripping his hips. You steady yourself, aligning the tip of your cock to the entrance of his needy, hot valve. "So beautiful," you whisper.

"Is that a rhetorical question?" he snaps back playfully. "You’re no better in that regard. How much longer do I ha — AHH!"

Before he can fully dive into another dramatic complaint, you thrust your cock deep into his slick valve, successfully silencing his tirade. His pedes shoot upward in response, and his previously relaxed, widely spread wings now draw closer together, trembling visibly. You enjoy the show before you, always having been fascinated by their expressiveness, especially since their owner likes to hide his true feelings. They’re a window to his soul, a delightfully honest indicator of how well you’re loving him.

"F-finally…" he whimpers, pushing himself harder against the silicone, eager to feel it reach the deepest parts of his valve, as though he wants it to enter even his tank, making his entire frame bask in the pleasure you’re providing.

He’s always considered himself a tough mech to please when it comes to interfacing — rarely satisfied, and even more rarely willing to open his panel to anyone. To him, such access is a privilege to be earned. But when it’s you exploring his inner workings with deliberate thrusts of your hips, Starscream spreads his legs wider, making your job easier. Isn’t he generous, letting you join the exclusive few who get to interface with him? Doesn’t he deserve praise and adoration for it?

"You’re not even trying…" he taunts, voice trembling. "You were supposed to turn me into your mindless toy, ah! And yet I still AHH!"

You cut off his rant by firmly grasping the base of his larger wings.

"Anything else you’d like to add, darling?" you tease, your rhythm steady and deliberate as you continue to thrust.

Still ramming your hips, pushing the toy deep into him only to let go immediately and repeat the process, you bend over him now having better access to the sensitive and delicate wings. You massage them at the base, where they meld with his back, drawing meaningless patterns and occasionally kneading, watching with a sense of triumph as the proud creature beneath you trembles all over and clamps his servo tightly around your sheets, exposing pure, unfiltered ecstasy.

"Starscream, we’ve only just begun…" you say, feigning disappointment, still caressing his sensitive wings. You can hear his engines roaring loudly, and his cooling vents struggling to keep up with the heat radiating from his frame, which has grown unbearably warm, pleasantly heating the tips of your fingers.

"Shut, agh! Shut up…" he growls weakly, his words slurred and broken by moans and whines.

Your pace is relentless. Your cock slides effortlessly inside, gliding against slick walls and pushing pleasurably, but it can’t savor the sensation with how quickly you aim to finish and bring this to its sweet conclusion. Yet he can’t pout about it when you’re so attentively tormenting his valve and vibrating wings. You care not just for his insides but his outer shell, too.

He feels as though his whole body is on fire, like his own anatomy will fail to handle the heat and explode, burning both you and himself. But he still wants more, wants to be gracefully ravaged, to climax so many times he loses count. To transform into your ideal plaything so you won’t need anyone else. His valve, his spike, his glossa, and digits. Only his. His, his, his!

“W-why are you, agh! so quiet?!” he stammers, oblivious to how he’s contradicting himself. “Don’t ignore me! L-love! Haah, adore! Worship…” he begs.

He’s no longer lying idly, passively letting you penetrate him. He begins moving his hips, quickly matching your rhythm and milking your shaft with even greater fervor and intensity.

“So beautiful…” you murmur, straining to reach his trembling wings with your lips. “So wonderful,” you add, mere millimeters above the gray metal.

You kiss the scars and marks left by particularly sharp claws that carved canyons into his delicate wings.

“My pretty Star, doing so well.”

Starscream can feel the care you pour into each kiss, and it’s enough to make his spike spasm and tremble, heralding fireworks. Yet he knows he must ask your permission to release the accumulated transfluid.

“Ah, ah, I’m… I’m close!” he howls, voice glitching, engines whining, and cooling fans falling behind. “I beg you, haah, please let me overload!”

You kiss him tenderly over another marred spot and allow yourself a few more thrusts to coax out those exotically strange but delightful cries of pleasure.

“Go ahead, my beautiful one, overload for me.”

Pink transfluid gushes from his spike, spilling over the panels amid loud screams and moans. But you don’t stop yet, knowing full well that one release won’t be enough, not with him and his inhuman endurance. Instead of pulling back, you lean in, running your fingertips over his sleek, intricate back now arched gracefully. You explore the valleys and ridges of his back strut, admiring its exotic design, unaware that the valve you’re docked in is trying to milk you, tightly clenched around your cock, signaling his desire for more. He wants more, wants you.

“You did wonderfully,” you praise and kiss his back a few times, earning a melodious whimper.

With trembling servos still clutching the bedding, Starscream is convinced he’s ascended to paradise. How else could he explain the overwhelming bliss you so generously bestow upon him? How can he rationalize the way his field of vision is dotted with hearts, his valve pulsing in time with your heartbeat? He has to stay here longer, to discover what else you have to offer him.

As if it were possible, he presses his aft harder into your cock, goading you to continue the play.

“W-what are you waiting for? We’re not done yet!”

“Ask nicely”

Oh, how he despises those games of yours, yet he eagerly awaits them, knowing they always come with a reward. Impatiently, he moves his aft, pleasuring himself now. The valve slides off your cock only to devour it again, savoring its dangerous proximity to his tank until his spike starts to shudder. He’s trying to entice you to move, to abandon your stillness, even though he knows it’s all part of the game, a fact you swiftly remind him of as you grip his hips firmly to hold him in place.

He turns his helm to gauge you, to test how far he can push, but seeing your chastising gaze, he stops teasing, pressing himself tightly against your hips once more and moaning from the feeling of disarming, carefree fullness that makes his valve burst.

“Hngh, please!” he pleads. “Ah, I can’t hold on any longer. I beg you, let me overload again, ah! Please…”

“Good mech,” you praise, resuming your thrusts, feeding his still-hungry valve with your synthetic shaft, dragging it over his abused, slick walls.

“Haah, thank you! Th-thank you!” he cries, claws raking the delicate bedding.

“Mhm, for my most magnificent mech, absolutely anything,” you adore him as he asked, placing kisses along his arched back, especially on his battered and tender wings.

There’s not a shred of romance in how you treat his valve. It’s primitive, animalistic rutting meant to rob him of breath from nonexistent lungs, to make his legs quake with excess pleasure, his claws pierce through the bedding completely, and most of all, to make him forget. The complete opposite of the tenderness and love you bestow on his back, ensuring every scratch you can reach taste your affection.

“The most magnificent,” you murmur.

After several more powerful thrusts, magenta transfluid spills onto your floor again, mixing with droplets from the last climax.

“The most wonderful,” you add.

Starscream climaxes again.

“The most beautiful.”

And again.

“The most perfect.”

And again. Again and again.

“Captivating.”

Until the moans turn into howls and only small, adorable pearls drip from his spike, as there’s nothing left to give.

“My Lord Starscream.”

Until your bedding is soaked with coolant, which also coats his chin.

“Star, for fuck’s sake, I can’t keep going.”

Until your hips themselves refuse to obey. You manage to push him into one more empty overload before withdrawing smoothly and unceremoniously, collapsing against the bed with labored breaths. You already know your hips will be sore tomorrow, but for now, you’re more concerned about the state of your thoroughly ravaged partner. To make sure you haven’t caused a short circuit in his processor, you turn your head toward him, unable to suppress a strange, barbaric sense of pride at the sight of his blank, foolish expression, glossa hanging out, optics rolled far back. Because you were the one who brought the great, megalomaniacal Starscream to bliss, and it’s a sight reserved solely for you.

“Hey, Star, how’re you feeling?” you ask gently, shifting closer to him and reaching for his helm, immediately beginning to stroke it. This seems to bring him back to life as he blinks a few times, as if reminding himself of the world he’s in, and finally focuses his optics on you. His drooped wings lift at the sight of you, his engines, now quieter, start whirring again, and — most surprisingly — Starscream smiles faintly but sincerely, with pure bliss, devoid of malice or mockery.

It’s hard not to mirror that smile and tuck it deep in your heart, a gesture he clearly takes as an invitation to move closer.

“Star?” you call, but he ignores you, more intent on invading your personal space than answering. He leans in to nestle his helm in the crook of your neck. For a moment, you think he’ll start nipping and sucking, demanding more, but he surprises you again, wrapping you in a loose but possessive embrace.

Now the grating sound of his engines shifts into a purr that vibrates through your chest, reaching your heart. It’s an odd sensation, like holding a working speaker to your chest, but you can’t deny that it’s pleasant and relaxing, almost lulling you to sleep if not for the distracting engine hum. Wanting to return the favor for this peculiar massage, you start gently stroking his helm, unable to stop thinking that you’re petting an oversized, cunning cat.

“You didn’t do… atrociously,” he finally speaks, dangerously close to your ear. “For a human, of course.”

You couldn’t have hoped for higher praise.

“Thanks. You were incredible too,” you reply, showing him how it’s done, though you doubt he understands, especially since his wings twitch slightly, pleased with the compliment.

For a moment, silence reigns as you both recover, but you’re forced to break it when you suddenly realize you need water. Turns out, constantly showering your insatiable partner with compliments can really dry out your throat.

“Star,” you begin.

As if he has access to your brain, he tightens his hold around you, his purring intensifying.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he declares. “You won’t leave me.”

You merely sigh and return to stroking his helm.

[simbasomba]

I just finished earthspark and I just wanna yap a lil bit abt it (spoilers)

Season 1? It was great. Delicious. Yummy. Yum yum in my tum tum. I love how they took starscreams abuse seriously! And his relationship with hashtag was SO CUTE!!!!!! I genuinely loved them SO MUCH!! Same with breakbee they were adorable!!! AND MEGOP!!!!!!

But in season 2 everything changed so much. I hate hate hate hate HATE how they turned all the decepticons bad just because they were decepticons. Like I actually thought that shockwave and breakdown and shit we’re gonna become good guys while staying decepticons, or even become autobots! But NOOOOOOOOOO they just HAD to become evil bcz of a STUPID MARKING ON THEIR BOOBS!!!!!! But the aftermath and breakdown stuff on the first episodes were funny. I’ll give them that. I also thought that starscream was gonna stay a well-developed character??? Like he just reverted back into a generic starscream character and I don’t like it, they fumbled SO BAD with starscreams character and development as one. Also there was barely any bumblebee and I hate it because I love bumblebee. Did he just stop training with the maltobots because they were like. Ready for life?? Or something?? Like did they turn twelve moons old?? Ready to guard the clan like a fuckibg warrior cat???? Megop was yummy tho

Then season three was..interesting. It was good but bad, y’know? The animation was certainly something and quintessas design was creepy as shit, but then again, PROWL!!!!!!!!! HE WAS. SO SILLY AND MEAN AND I LOVE HIM!!!! And also ITS CONFIMRED! OPPY HONKS WHEN HE SNEEZES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THE PROPHECY HAS BEEN FULFILLED LETS GO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But then again….motherfucking starscream. When he died I wanted to kill myself like WHYYYYYYY?? WHYD YOU FORGIVE MEGGY BUT NOT SCREAMER LIKE IT MAKES NO SENSE!!! AND I DESPISE HOW THEY WERE ANTAGONIZING HIM LIKE HE WAS HE WAS THREATENING TO SLIT THEIR THROATS WHILE HE WAS JUST THERE LIKE: 😀 LIKE WHAT DID MY BOY DO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHAT DID HE DOOOOOOOOOOOOO???!?!?!?!?!?!????!????1!?!??!?!?!!?!1?!??1!1?1! I HATED THAT FUCKING PART I WANTED TO BITE THE BULLET!!! Than again….megop was yumalicious. Also I don like how the first episode was breakbee divorce :((

Like breakdown and bumblebee fumbled eachother SO BAD!!!!!! THEYRE SO INLOVE AND CUTE AND YOU CANNOT TELL ME OTHERWISE!!!!!! LIKE WHY DID WE HAVE DIVORCE WHEN WE COULDVE HAD THIS